Unrequited Love
by Lamia Angel of Death
Summary: It's the night of John's bachelor party and the crime fighting duo have gone out for several drinks. During a game of "Who Am I?" some feelings are brought to the surface. The Sign of Three and how it could have gone differently. Soft Johnlock heavily implied.


Hello ladies and gentlemen! It has been a long time since I have written a fanfiction. I wrote this one as part of a valentines day contest on a roleplaying website I frequent. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. They belong to BBC, Moffat, etc. I am doing this for the entertainment of others...etc. etc.

Now, enjoy!

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It was the night of John Watson's bachelor party. Sherlock had wanted to show John a good time, so he figured they would go drinking on every street that they've found a corpse. He'd planned their ideal intake levels for the night, the side-effects they would have such as light-headedness and the amount they would actually drink to prevent urinating on themselves on in very problematic places such as wardrobes.

He had it all planned out. When they went to their first bar he ordered two beers exactly 443.7ml in two of his 500ml beakers. He started the time and the charts for the intoxication levels. But despite his best efforts to keep the two relatively sober, they both became incredibly sloshed. Sherlock believed that he even started picking a fight with someone, whom John had to pull him away from.

After only two hours, they somehow made it home and they were lying on the steps inside the building. They had been talking nonsense and gibberish but to them, the conversation made sense.

"I have an international reputation…Do you have an international reputation?" Sherlock asked, turning his head to address John, who was lying behind him.

Without opening his eyes, John grumbled out. "No…I don't have an…international reputation."

"No….and I can't even remember what for! ….Crime….or summing like that…" He replied, his words slurring. He gave a small grunt, laying his head on the stairs.

A click of a door opening could be heard and Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat with a bag. "What are you doing back? I thought you were going to be out late!"

Sherlock groaned. "Ah…whatiz…What time is it?"

She looked at her watch, grimacing a bit. "You've only been out two hours." She replied, walking to the front door.

They both sat up, sliding down the stairs a little bit. They looked at each other before heading upstairs to their flat, looking for something to do. They debated what they would play, nixing out several games before finally deciding to play the "Who am I?" drinking game.

They sat across from each other, holding their drinks in their hand. On the paper on John's forehead, Sherlock had written 'Madonna' while on the paper on Sherlock's head John had written 'Sherlock Holmes'. John thought it would be hilarious to try and see Sherlock guess himself.

They stared at each other for a while, their heads bobbing and swaying from their inebriated state. John was the first to speak.

"…Am I a vegetable?"

"…You? Or the…thing?" Sherlock replied, his drink swaying in his hand.

John snickered, laughing. "F-Funny…"

"…Heh..thank you…"

"Am I?"

"No, you are not a vegetable…" Sherlock replied, to which John took a drink of his liquor.

It was Sherlock's turn to guess. "Agh….am I human?"

John finished taking a drink before he replied. "…Sometimes."

"Can't have sometimes…"

"Yes, you're human."

Sherlock sat there, contemplating for a moment. "Yes and…am I a man?"

"Yup!"

"Tall?"

John thought for a moment before replying, "Not as tall as people think…"

"Hmmm….nice?"

"…ish"

"Clever?"

John chuckled a bit, he wondered if he would actually get it. "Clever? I'd say so…" He said, sinking back further into his recliner.

"Do… 'people'…like me." He said, flailing his arms a bit.

"No…they don't you…tend to rub them up the wrong way." John replied, fiddling with his glass.

"Okay. Am I the current King of England?" Sherlock asked with a drunken smile on his face.

John giggled a bit. "You know we don't have a king?"

"Don't we?"

John shook his head.

"Your go." Sherlock replied, taking a gulp of his drink.

John sat up, leaning forward. He stared at Sherlock intensely, trying to come up with his question. He fell forward a bit and he put his hand on his flat mate's leg to keep him upright. He noticed how far up he had put it and removed it. Sherlock simply shrugged, muttering "I don't mind." John didn't notice his reply, to intent on coming up with his question.

"…Am I a woman?"

Sherlock snickered, finding the question funny, earning a 'What'? From John. "Yes." He tried sitting up, being careful not to spill his drink.

"Am I…pretty?" He pointed at the paper. "…This."

"Beauty is a construct built on childhood impressions, influences and-"

"Yeah but am I a pretty lady?" John asked, interrupting him.

Sherlock squinted at him, leaning close to him to look at the name. He couldn't see it very well; the word didn't make sense to him. As he tried to focus, he noticed his eyes straying down John's face. He began to see the peculiarities of John's face; the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the dimples on his face and even his eyes: those blue-grey eyes of his. He started to stare into them for a moment, as if looking for something.

Then Sherlock did something he thought he'd never do; he leaned forward and kissed him. He felt John's body freeze as the contact was made, as if entirely not expecting it. He pulled back his face to look at John's face; he noticed the shock in his beautiful eyes, mixed with a small measure of confusion.

"…No, you're not a pretty lady…but that doesn't mean you aren't beautiful." Sherlock said, the words tumbling out before he could catch them.

He wanted to touch John's face, to feel the skin beneath his finger tips. His hand moved cautiously to cover John's left cheek, patting it gently. John leaned into the touch slightly, whether from his drunken stupor or because he actually liked it.

John didn't know what to feel, the fact that his flat mate just kissed him floored him. To make it even more confusing, it was Sherlock! The man who didn't believe in relationships and he just kissed him!

Before Sherlock could remove his hand, John lifted up his own to place it on the other's hand. The latter's eyes widened a bit out of surprise. John sighed. "…Sod it." He leaned forward, capturing Sherlock's lips with his own.

Now it was Sherlock's turn to be surprised. The kiss wasn't entirely unwelcome though and in Sherlock Holmes's drunken mind, this was perfectly logical. He kissed him, savoring the taste that was John mixed with the liquor he had been previously nursing.

To John, Sherlock tasted like liquor and, he couldn't explain the taste but it was most definitely Sherlock.

They both sat there in perfect bliss. It didn't matter that John was getting married to Mary soon; all that mattered was the two of them. Unfortunately, their bliss was not to last; they heard Mrs. Hudson coming upstairs, talking about a client. They pulled back from each other's lips, a trail of saliva following afterword.

They wiped their mouths off and waited for her to come in. They both felt some measure of sadness for that would be their first and only kiss they would ever get with one another.

And while John may not have remembered it or chose not to, but Sherlock did. He felt a small measure of regret for not having acted on his feelings sooner. Their feelings would never see the light of day. But for that one moment, they experienced bliss. And Sherlock wouldn't give up that memory for anything in the world.

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Well, I hope you enjoyed it. It was short, I know and actually I had to shorten it for the contest (It was 1k words and this one is 200 words over). Review away!


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